Good Times
by tamaraface
Summary: Reflective, Ashley's POV. Set immediately following Under My Skin. Eventual Spashley. ON HOLD!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Good Times

Author: Tammie

Rating: Let's call it G now, it may change.

Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere, but oh, if i did... Don't sue, I really have no money

Pairing: Spashley, duh!

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I don't know what to tell you anymore. We've tried the whole honesty thing, that didn't work. Needless to say, lying didn't work any better. I just don't know what you want from me anymore. You say friends. Okay, I can do friends. Friends was working pretty well. But then there was Aiden and Kelly and Aiden and Aiden and Josie and there's always your mom and jealousy does not look good on either of us. This, I've learned.

But where we go from here, I'm really not sure. I know what I want, and I know that you know it too. But you don't acknowledge it, at least not out loud or at least not in front of me. So I pretend for your sake, as I do everything. But I can only pretend for so long, I mean, your mom's brownies aren't _that_ good.

So this is where we are now. Quiet looks and soft touches, endless stares and toothy smiles. Perfect moments that let me believe I can die now and die happy. But I want more. Is that selfish? I mean, a best friend like you is a godsend to a person like me, so is wanting to take it further wrong of me?

But the thing is, sometimes I think you feel the same way. At least it's not out of the question anymore, what with you maybe liking girls now. So there's hope, maybe. No, there is. I know. I've seen you look at me. I see _how_ you look. And I know what that look means. But until you work up the courage to stop looking and do something, I'll sit here and wait and look back.

"Ashley!" I hear, and by the way you say it, it wasn't the first time.

"What? Sorry I --"

"Wasn't listening?" you say with on of those all-knowing smiles.

"No, no I was just thinking about what you were saying, which was.…what again?"

"I said, I was thinking about coloring my hair. Maybe going darker, think I should?"

"No way, you look great the way you are." And then I smile and then you smile and blush a little bit which only makes me smile more. See? Good times.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So this one's slightly longer, but what it lacks in length it makes up for in drama or angst or whatever. If I didn't say befre, please, PLEASE review, it makes me update faster.

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We've been talking for a while now. And it's nice that we're back. Because I've missed us, I've missed you. But when I see you glance at the clock for the fifth time, then at your bed, then at me, I know you're about spent. It is late after all. 1:00 is still late, right?

I sit up and pretend to stretch until I hear my muscles pop. You sit up too, from this mess of blankets and pillows we've made on the floor beside your bed to retain some sense of privacy since your mom has again left the door open. I really don't want to sleep on the couch. And I look at you like, I really don't wanna sleep on the couch. But your eyes are guilty and I don't want to make you feel worse.

"Think we should call it a night?"

"Yeah, I'm getting pretty tired," and as if to prove it, you yawn, like I wouldn't have believed you. I stand and you follow.

"Then I guess I'll just…." and I make some gesture to the door and back away, slowly.

"Ashley?" I turn around just in time to see you hesitate. "Uh, goodnight."

"'Night, Spence." I shut the door behind me after I leave and lean against it briefly. I throw my head back against the door a little too hard and wince at the thud I made. Ow.

"Ahem," a voice clears to my left. And I'm up and away from the door so fast I almost lose my balance. Nothing like sheer terror at the hands of Mother Superior to get you going again.

"Mrs. Carlin. I was just--" And then the door opened, and you stick your head out. Then we're all three talking at once about noise and knocking and going to the bathroom before your mom suggests that we all should just go to bed before we wake the rest of the house.

I try to get comfortable on the couch, but it's kind of lumpy. Wait, no, that was just the remote under my ass. There, that's better. After what I guess is half an hour of trying to sleep, I get up and grope my way to the kitchen. I bump my shin on something hard and suppress a curse word.

Sitting at your little nook thing, I play with the glass of milk in my hands. And seeing as it's kind of hard to play with a full glass, I'm mostly just rolling it between my hands. I think I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and freeze until a figure appears in the darkened doorway. Even in the almost-black I can see you smile.

"Looks like we had the same bright idea," you say and go towards the fridge in search of milk.

"It's like we have one brain." Then I think about that. "Wait…." But you just laugh a little Spencer laugh and join me a the table. Counter? Whatever.

We wait in comfortable silence as clouds move across the tabletop in dark light, your bare feet barely touching mine. We're not drinking anymore, we've stopped talking, just sitting, sitting. I want to look at you because, hello, when do I ever not? And this whole covert-side-glancing-when-the-other-isn't-looking thing is getting a little old.

So, I turn to you and try and think of something, anything remotely intelligent or at least interesting to say, but you're already looking at me. Burning blue into tired brown, and I have to remind myself how to breathe. In, out. In, out. It doesn't have to be interesting, just words, say something!

"Spencer--" but it comes out like air, I'm just breathing your name and it doesn't matter anyway because you've already closed this distance between us and I don't need to know how to breathe when your lips are on mine.

You're kissing me and it's soft and perfect and hard and scary all at once. It's better than I could've hoped and scarier than I would've thought and over before I know it because you pull away just as quickly as you leaned in.

You make a sound that's almost like a laugh, and say something that sounds like, "I….go," and wave your hands in the general vicinity of the stairs and nearly bump into the door jamb moving away. From me. Very quickly. I don't follow though. I'm still working on that breathing thing. I do try to call after you but all that comes out is air and all I can do is bring a hand to mine lips because they're still tingling from when yours touched them.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Guess who's feeling post happy? Me! But I swear, no more till I see some reviews. Feedback is love, people

This is _so_ not what I wanted. Yeah, kissing's great, but the silent treatment isn't. We've both been there and done that, and déjà vu is just not what it used to. We've done this little avoidance dance before; it wasn't fun then and guess what? Not much better this time around. But I've got to give you brownie points for style. At least this time you're not ignoring me. You're not glaring at me. No, we're still talking, but about the weather and that guy's shoes. Sure, you don't glare at me, but you don't meet my eyes, if I'm lucky, you'll glance at my forehead.

You won't talk about it, you just pretend it didn't happen. Like it didn't mean anything. Like you didn't try to stick your tongue down my throat. Like you didn't like it. That's the game you've decided to play and you've also decided that I should play along. Who am I to deny you? Now, I thought I was your best friend. I thought I was maybe just a little bit more. But I guess not. I'm a convenience, I'm an experiment, I'm a question you want to try and answer but can give up on as soon as it gets too complicated.

Unfortunately, I'm used to this and I let you do it. Even more unfortunately, I go along with it. I act like I don't even remember it. I act like I can't see this space between us. I act like I can't see that you put it there. And I act like I don't know it's getting bigger. Like I don't care.

I thought I'd messed things up before. I thought it was killing me, not seeing you or speaking to you for those days we went without each other. But this is actually worse. Half of you is worse than none of you. You won't touch me. No taps on the shoulder to get my attention. No grabbing my hand to pull me anywhere, else. Always a calculated distance between the two of us when you sit down or stand next to me. I can see you calculating as we walk so we don't accidentally bump walking through the halls, or walkways, or parking lot, wherever.

At least when you stayed away from me, I knew you couldn't be near me. But when we're together and you stay away I know you don't want to be near me. And I want to go back. So far back. Before you kissed me. And _you_ kissed _me_, remember? It's your own fault really. Back before we first fought. Before you told me you thought you liked girls. Back when we were just friends. Back when that was all we could be. Back when we knew everything. When you were Spencer and I was Ashley and Spence and Ashley were best friends.

I don't like who we are now. This Spencer who acts like she isn't breaking my heart and this Ashley who doesn't care that it's being broken. These people suck. What we need to do is get a dialogue going between these people that I hate and see if we can't get them back to the people that I love.

Yeah, talking. Talking is good. That's what we need. I tell myself to talk, a couple of times, I'm kind of stubborn you know, and look up from what this cafeteria passes off as food and try to get your attention.

"Spencer." And it was just air. Breath that sounded like your name, at least in my head, that couldn't possibly have heard above all the din, but you did. You did. And you look up. Into my eyes, because you know what that tone of voice means. It's got, Don't screw with me, written all over it. You look at me and I know that if you mixed blue and brown it would be my new favorite color.

"Spencer," I say again. "We need to talk."


	4. Chapter 4

Reviews: **emilyscott101**- voila, more dialogue.

**hackensack nights**- thumbs up to you too, dude.

**Sammi**- Ask and ye shall recieve... another update anyway.

**simpa and erin- **I love you for loving it

**Krissy- **Smiles for you, too.

**B-girl and S.O.N. luva-** It's awesome that you think my story's awesome

**Elizabeth354**- Always nice to hear I've got characterization down, it's like the hardest thing as a writer.

**mercurial13**- Love the specifics and LOOOOVE the ego boost! Gracias.

Disclaimer: We all know I don't own it, don't sue. And by the way, any views expressed in this fic that may be deemed bigoted or offensive do not reflect the views of the author.

Rating: I'm upping the rating for this chapter to R to be safe for language and sexual content.

A/N: So, it looks like I'm ignoring my homework. But honestly, it's Spashley... Homework never had a chance. It occurs to me that Ashley got suspended during "Under My Skin," and as I don't know how long her suspension was for, let's say for fictual purposes it was only for the day. So, please don't hate me for what follows. It's wouldn't be fun if I just got our girls together, now would it? Of course not. Shit happens, wackiness will ensure, but they WILL be together, so be patient. Thanks a buttload to all who reviewed, they are greatly appreciated. Feedbacklove. Without further ado, Good Times...

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"Spencer," I say again. "We need to talk." I wait for you to say something, anything, but you just stare. At everything, anything but me. "About what happened the other day?"

"What happened the other day?" a disturbingly male voice echoes behind me. Seriously, Aiden could not have worse timing if he tried, and sometimes I think he does.

"Nothing," you say, all too quickly. He completely misses the daggers I shoot at him, him and those giant, ripple-y biceps. Honestly, who needs all that muscle?

My stomach does a little flip when I see you flash him one of those Spencer-smiles that are as reflexive for you as breathing. You used to smile at me like that.

"You ready to go?" he asks you. Go? Go where? He hasn't even said hi to me yet, he's just been ogling like the horny little schoolboy he is--not that I care, because I really don't.

"Yeah, sure. Just let me pack up my stuff." Hello, does anyone want to clue me in here?

"Hello? Does anyone wanna clue me in here?" Aiden turns to me as if he's just notices I'm here, which he probably has.

"Oh, Ashley. Um, me and Spencer were gonna go check out the uh, the um…" he says.

"The Calloway film on the boardwalk," you add.

"You're ditching?" Without me?

"Well, yeah. It closes today and the last showing is at 1:00." Funny how you're not looking at me while you get rid of me. Again.

"We would've asked you, but you're in deep with your mom, so..." Aiden mumbles.

"I'm so sure, Aiden," I turn to look at you and away from all the man-ness. "Spence, I really need to talk to you, can't you just--"

"No, um, I gotta go. Come on, Aiden."

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Spencer's POV

It's not that I don't want to talk to Ashley, because I do. God, all I ever want to do is talk to her. But what the hell am I going to say? Yeah, sorry we made out for, like five minutes, it was an accident, but we're still friends, right? I can't do this. I can't. I can't be with Ashley. I can't be with any girl. None of it. Ever. It's not about what I want and it doesn't matter that I want it... It can't happen. I'm not gay. I'm not. Gay is for guys with high voices and curling irons. Gay is for girls with mullets and...flannel. I am not gay. I can't be.

I mean, it's all Ashley's fault anyway. I never would've thought about girls if she hadn't been so...out about everything. If she hadn't been all, "Guys aren't the only option," then I never would've thought otherwise. Because guys ARE the only option for me. It doesn't matter that Ashley is sweet and funny and brave strong and good to me and beautiful as hell, she's still a she. And she and I don't go together. It doesn't matter that I get butterflies when she smiles at me. It doesn't matter that seeing her in her underwear makes me melt. It doesn't matter that I've planned our wedding, named our children, and picked out our burial plots. Because Ashley and I can't happen.

That's why I'm with him. Aiden's just as pretty as Ashley minus all the girly parts. Though I think his boobs may be bigger than mine... Be he's a he and that's what matters. He's sweet when he wants to be and smart when he tries. And he's hot, right? He's exactly the kind of guy I should want, I mean there are tons of girls who would gladly murder me and step over my dead body just to get in his pants and here I am about to take them off.

Because I want this. I want Aiden. And I'm not thinking that Ashley would've held my hand walking down the pier. I'm not thinking that she would've held the door open for me when we went to the theatre. I'm not thinking that Ashley is soft and smooth everywhere Aiden is hard and hairy. I'm not wishing that the arms around my waist were thinner. I'm not pretending that the body on top of mine is a hundred pounds lighter. I stopped hoping that the hands in my hair and under my shirt and up my skirt would stay on my face. Because I'm not thinking about Ashley. I'm not.

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Ashley's POV

I've had enough of this. This game we play. Talking and teasing is all well and good until someone gets hurt. And that someone has been me too many times. I won't let you do that to me. I won't do that to me. If you want to be with him, fine. I don't care. Go be with him and then you can go back to the cheerbreeders and please your mommy. Go be little Miss Perfect, have a fucking ball, I really don't care. Sure, I thought that you might be good for me. Maybe I believed that you actually cared about me. So what if I thought that you saw something in me, and maybe that meant there was something there. I was wrong. I'm not about to deal with all this coming-to-terms and coming out shit. That's too much drama for this mama, and I don't need anymore frown lines. And I don't need you.

It's your own fault, really. I never pretended to be anything I wasn't and you totally led me on. Always with the smiling and the hugging and the kissing, twice! You said that we were okay. You said that we were better than okay. I didn't have to take a chance on you, you know. I get enough crap from the cheerbitches without trying to "turn a new recruit." And I so did not need all that shit from your mom! Who the hell does she think she is, judging me like that? Where does she get off looking down on me when she's s obviously hooking up with Dr. Boyfriend over there. If I wanted to watch The Brady Bunch or The Young and The Restless, I'd turn on the television.

Spencer's a boy's name anyway. And I don't drive stick anymore. Girls it is. Girls and vodka and that bar on Highland and Third with the strobe lights and strippers. Because I don't need you. Or those blue eyes. Hmm, that girl has blue eyes. But that has nothing to do with this. I'm not picking her up because she reminds me of you. And I'm not going home with her because I never went home with you. I'm not grabbing fistfuls of curly, dark hair and wishing it was straight and the color of warm honey. When she takes off her clothes, I'm not pretending I don't see tatoos and piercings. And when she's working between my legs, I'm not crying out your name because I can't remember hers. Because I'm not thinking about you. I'm not.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, not mine, blah blah blah... Again, not trying to offend anyone, so don't get anal about any bigotry or stereotypes in this chapter.

**A/N: **Thanks to all who reviewed, I'm not about to thank you all by name, but you rock out loud. Now, I'm thinking a couple more chapters should wrap this up. Hoping to get it all done this weekend. In the last chapter, we got a little look into Spencer's head, not sure if I wanna keep doing that or if I'll keep it all Ashley. If you care either way, let me know. Um, that's about it, so R&R, feedback is love.

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So, I lied a little bit. That's no surprise. It's not like I've never done that before. So I don't get why you have the nerve to go around acting all hurt. You started it remember? I _should_ be ignoring you. I should be avoiding you. But you don't have to get all huffy and take off to the other end of the classroom when I come to sit down. Though, I imagine it must be uncomfortable sitting that long with a giant stick up your ass. If you want to be like that, who am I to stop you? If you want to call it quits, then do it. I got along for, what sixteen, seventeen years without you? I can do it again. I have other friends. Okay, maybe not, but I can make some! I don't even need friends, I don't play well with others and I'm just fine on my own.

So you can stay there across the quad under that tree where you think I can't see you. I don't have to sit with you at lunch. I'm better company. And look, your little boyfriend would rather sit with me anyway. And I'm going to let him, so there! So you can just stay under that tree and be all broody and pretend you're not staring.

"Hey, what's up with you and Spencer? You guys know you're not sitting together, right?" Aiden says, ever observant.

"Yeah, I noticed what with her not being here."

"Did you guys have a fight or something? 'Cuz she was being really weird yesterday." okay, I'm piqued.

"Why, did she say something?"

"No, she was just all over me out of nowhere, which was great, don't get me wrong. She can be really--"

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there, are you actually going somewhere with this?"

"Well, I thought things were going great, we were fooling around and then all off a sudden she just started crying and--"

"What the hell did you do!"

"Nothing! We were just kissing and she started freaking out! I didn't even do anything, I thought she just wanted to chill and then she was on top of me, what was I supposed to do, push her off?"

"Uh, yeah! But then you wouldn't know what not taking advantage of Spencer looks like, would you?" I grab my stuff and get away from that man-whore as soon as possible before I give into the urge to injure him. Badly. Between the legs. Damn, I'm afraid all that testosterone might be contagious.

Before I can get to you, the bell rings and you take off faster than Superman. PE is so not that exciting. I don't even know why you're rushing , because your locker is right next to mine and I'm gonna see you anyway. And don't even try to rush, because even you can't dress that fast. But it looks like you're trying to. I'll let you dress in peace because I don't want to talk to you anyway. So you can ignore me all you want because I don't--

"Um, Ashley?" Say something nice, say something nice.

"Oh, so you do remember my name." That wasn't nice!

"Ashley..."

"I thought you weren't talking to me. I mean, that's what you're good at, right? Ignoring a problem until it goes away? Well, let me make things real easy for you. I'm gonna go and you can keep whatever the hell you want, without me." And I would go too, if this damn locker would shut.

"Ash, wait a second."

"No. I'm tired of waiting. And I'm tired of you." I keep going on and on, I do tend to bitch a lot, but everybody's looking because I'm talking pretty loud. And behind me I can hear Madison rearing her claws.

"Aw, are the lovers having a quarrel? Careful, you might make little Spencer cry." And then there's a smack. A loud one. And my hand hurts. And I realize I just punched Madison. Hard. Ow...

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Who was the genius that made sunset so damn late in the day? I shouldn't have to wait until almost 7:00 for it. It was probably the same genius that made rush hour at 6:30 which is making it increasingly difficult for me to get to the beach! Road rage is so not what i need right now and is doing nothing for my skin. Enter crazy little chinese man to cut me off on the on-ramp. And now I missed my exit. And there goes my cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Ashley?"

"Yeah?"

"Ashley, it's Paula Carlin." How the hell did she get my phone number?

"Okay..."

"Look, the school called and Spencer missed her last two classes and she didn't come home after school. She hasn't called and her brothers don't know where she is either. Please tell me she's with you."

"No. Um, I haven't seen her since after lunch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I think I'd know." The worried, frustrated sigh I hear almost makes me feel sorry for being curt. Almost.

"Well, if you hear from her--"

"Actually, I think I might know where to look. I'll send her home if I find her."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, sure."

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"Looks like we had the same bright idea." I take a seat next to you in the warm sand. It's hard to tell in the dwindling sunlight and shade from the dock, but I'm pretty sure you've been crying. "Your mom called me."

Nothing.

"Your family's all worried." That was only a little bitter.

Nothing. But you're staring at the ground really hard and trying not to cry and only half succeeding. I don't think about it. I just reach an arm out and wrap it around your waist. Then your head is in my shoulder and you _are_ crying and you're holding me so tight you're practically in my lap and mumbling something really, really fast. i wait until you're done.

"Spence," I say, rubbing your back to soothe your hiccups. "I'm sorry, I didn't get a word of that." You take a deep breath and never move from my arms.

Whispering against my neck, you speak so softly I wouldn't have heard you if you weren't right next to my ear. "I love you. And I'm scared."

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Dum dum dum! So, one or two more updates should do it. So let me know how you want the Spencer thing, and I'll update as soon as I can.


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